


Shower Thoughts

by World_Class_Izzy



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual LAMP - Freeform, M/M, Minor Self Harm, Multi, body negativity, but then it became... this, don't really know what archive warnings to use, implied eating disorder, roman is Sad, this was mostly to help my own intrusive thoughts at first, unedited, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-06-17 11:58:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15460875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/World_Class_Izzy/pseuds/World_Class_Izzy
Summary: Roman has a really, really bad day. He tries to clear his mind with a shower.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This starts out as my own intrusive thoughts venting, but becomes something really different and not what I expected. I think I like it.  
> PS Completely unedited

After what had to have been the longest day of his life, Roman was happy to finally have the bathroom to himself for a long, steamy shower. Nothing cleared his head quite as much as hot water running in rivers through his hair and down his back. 

And boy, did his head need to be cleared. 

All day, Roman had felt inadequate - like he had to do more in order to be doing anything at all. It wasn’t unfamiliar to the dramatic side to feel… lacking. But today he’d felt especially so. 

Twisting the squeaky handles of the faucet to find the perfect water temperature, Roman swept a hand through his unusually messy - and sort of sticky - hair. The beginning of his day, when he’d realized he was out of hair gel, should have been a warning that there was no happily-ever-after in his near future, but he had held on to hope and simply used the last of his remaining hairspray, despite its weaker hold. 

Once the water was sufficiently warm, already steaming and relaxing him from the close proximity, he pulled up the tab that switched the water from the faucet to the shower head. With a hum of appreciation, he started to pull off his clothes piece by piece - first his typical red sash, then his white dress shirt, followed by his black slacks and boxers. 

The steam was starting to fill up the small bathroom, inch by inch, though not yet enough to mist the full-length mirror attached to the backside of the pristine white door. Roman stood before it, taking in his appearance with a small frown that brought the light out of his usually beaming eyes.

How could he smile while looking at… that; how could he possibly think positively while he stared at himself and saw such a disappointment? 

The thumping of the shower fell into background noise as he stared. The distaste in his voice was thick as he muttered, “Gross.” His fingers poked and prodded at his stomach where a small pudge had been forming over the previous months. It was barely enough for two of Romans fingers to pinch at, but just enough for him to have noticed. 

No, not noticed. This wasn’t a part of his body that he merely noticed. He obsessed over it. 

Turning to look at his profile, Roman couldn’t help but try to fix it by standing taller, pulling his stomach inwards with a held breath, and using his hands to pull the skin tight across his abdomen - and it worked! But only for the brief moments that he could hold such a difficult position. 

Releasing a huff of annoyance, the dramatic man turned back to his shower.

Stepping over the ridge of the tub brought him immediate pleasure as the water gently massaged every inch of skin in reached. The soft, insistent pressure of the liquid pushing against his skin relaxed his tight muscles and for a long moment, he forgot the negative energy that had followed him for hours.

After the incident with his hair, Roman had put on a smile for show and followed the smell of bacon downstairs. He’d figured that he would find Patton making breakfast, as the fatherly side often did, and so he’d waltzed into to kitchen without a care in the world. The sight that greeted him, however, was one that made his blood run cold. 

Sitting on the table was Virgil, legs spread wide to accommodate the man - Logan - who was holding the anxious’ sides hips in a tight grasp as their lips moved in slow and languid motions together. Something about their movements seemed so comfortable, too comfortable, as though this situation was something the two were accustomed to. 

Normally such romance would have Roman squealing - perhaps even bounding around the mindscape with a song on his lips as he celebrated - but this… Roman could barely stand the sight. He liked Virgil, had liked him for ages now, and though he’d never shared the information he thought it was known. Aside from any of that, he felt betrayal also in the fact that nobody had told him when it was clear that the relationship between the two was far from new.

How had he, the romantic and boisterous Roman, not known? Had they purposely kept it from him, or was he just too stupid to have noticed something that suddenly seemed so obvious? 

His thought process all happened in short seconds before he managed to turn and flee without having been seen. With tears gathering he was quick to seek out someone who could make him smile - but where would Patton be, if not the kitchen?

A frown formed on Romans' mouth as his mind rewinded the days' events and stung him with a new pain - one that came from knowing how this story would end, rather than the oblivious state he had been in when the events had originally unfolded. 

He snatched his shampoo from the shower shelf, grumbling quietly at the realization that it too was empty, just as his hair gel had been. He grabbed at Logan's, an unscented bottle that would leave no reminders of his fellow sides in the scent of his hair, and squirted a large amount in his palm - certainly more than Logan would consider fine for him to borrow during a single shower. As he rubbed it into his hair in rough circles, his mind circled back to when he’d found Patton. 

It hadn’t been until near lunchtime that Roman had thought to look out in the gardens for his faithful Padre, and by then his tears had already come and gone in the quiet of his own room. Yet still, he knew - or, really, had thought - that Patton would cheer him up tenfold. Besides, didn’t Patton deserve to know about this secret romance as well? Surely he’d sympathize with Roman, knowing of the princes' feelings for the emo nightmare. 

And so he’d pulled himself from his bed and quickly made his way to the flower beds outside. Sure enough, there was Patton, his fingers digging happily through the dirt. Roman smiled at the sight of Patton’s gardening gloves thrown off beside the man, no doubt having been there since morale side had started. 

Roman’s teeth gritted as he remembered the smile Patton had given him. Something... Knowing. Almost wise, he supposed, as Patton wiped his hands on his dirtied jeans and greeted Roman softly. Without a greeting back, Roman’s eyes had widened and filled with tears immediately as he managed to force a voice from somewhere within him to ask, “You knew?” 

Patton's response was clearly meant to calm the creative side, but only enraged Roman further. “We wanted to tell you, Roman, and we were going to soon, but Virgil wasn’t ready to-” 

Roman’s shouting still echoed in his own ears, though broken and rearranged like the shattered pieces of a stained glass window. Accusations, angry insults, questions he didn’t want answers to - he still wasn’t sure if Patton had tried to reply before Roman had turned and marched back inside with a red face and puffy eyes. 

He had felt so betrayed, he still did, but more so he felt… Left out. The three of them? Together? Without him? 

As warm water pushed soap out of his hair and down the drain, Roman heaved a heavy sigh. He was the romantic one, the prince who sought damsels and lasting love, and they hadn’t mentioned any of it to him. 

At the time, he’d been so incredibly angry. He’d found Virgil on the couch of the living room and screamed at him just as he had at Patton. He words to Virgil were only different in that they were more direct, more personalized. Unlike the vague anger and betrayal he portrayed to the fatherly side, he’d unintentionally hit Virgil in all the spots that he knew would hurt most. 

“You don’t belong with us!”

“You make every situation worse!”

“You aren’t needed here!”

He hadn’t really meant any of it… But he had said it, and he couldn’t take it back. When he was done, Roman had stood there staring at Virgil, the only sound his own heavy breathing, until Virgil had finally stood up and calmly walked out of the room. Roman barely noticed Patton running after him. 

Roman was the romantic one, and they hadn’t mentioned any of it to him. 

As Roman grabbed Logan’s conditioner, intentionally taking a much smaller glob then he had with the shampoo and ran it through his thick strands slowly.

Before, he had only ever thought of being with Virgil, perhaps because their relationship would resemble something out of one of Roman’s favourite rom-coms; enemies to friends, such a beautiful cliche that appealed to Roman’s sense of story and arc, but now he was thinking about the other sides. 

Patton had always been a ray of sunshine during Roman’s darkest moments - with the exception of today - and he could see a great appeal in being with the eldest side. Not to mention he was a highly skilled cook and an excellent listener. Even his jokes appealed to Roman, now that the creative one thought on it more thoroughly.

Even Logan, who appeared so cold and calculating on first glance but occasionally revealed a soft and vulnerable nature, held a spark within him that Roman found himself drawn to. 

But it didn’t matter. They hadn’t invited him, and he’d clearly ruined any chance he had in the first place. Logan was especially angry with him, as evident at dinnertime. 

Roman had planned to come to the kitchen only to grab his plate before running back to his room, however when he entered he found three sets of eyes boring holes into him. Patton's seemed hopeful, but the other two were clearly only firing anger towards him. Roman refused to meet any of their gazes as he walked towards the table. 

The closer he got, the more suffocating the air felt. The tension could be cut with a knife. 

Roman remembered it more vividly than anything else that day. 

Before he had fully reached the table, Logan had stood up. There was something akin to cold fire in his eyes as he grabbed the plate sitting before Roman’s usual seat. It had been filled with a dinner that was clearly meant for the creative side - all of his favourite foods, arranged without touching, just as he liked - but the work (clearly Patton) was put to waste as Logan carried it to the garbage can and scraped the food in with the rest of the trash. 

Roman stared, only half listening as Patton scrambled to scold Logan and grab Roman another plate. The prince didn’t stay long enough to receive it though. 

Thinking about it now, Roman could understand Logan’s anger. If the other three sides were indeed in a romantic relationship and Roman had been so cruel to the other two - especially poor Virgil - then Logan was completely justified in his defensive, protective reaction. Roman would have done the same, he supposed. 

That didn’t make him feel any better though. 

His eyes began to swim with more tears and he cursed under his breath. He felt foolish now. He’d reacted so stupidly. As the tears began to fall, his arms wrapped around his own waist in a protective motion that he’d put little thought into - immediately his hands felt the soft pudge around his sides, filling out his form in a way he hated. 

He nails sunk into the skin, as though he could tear it away if he tried, and his tears wracked small sobs from deep in his chest. How could he treat his friends so awfully? His family? 

How could he be so disgusting, only because they had found happiness with each other? Why would they want him anyway? 

He wasn’t nearly done berating himself for even dreaming that they’d ever want someone so cruel and ugly to join them, when the water began to cool. The liquid that once felt so relaxing now only served to make him shiver and squeeze himself tighter. 

He finally turned the water off and pushed himself to leave the shower, to grab a towel, to return to his room. Clad in only the black towel, Roman fell back onto his bed. His sides stung where his nails had dug small holes, some only indents in his skin and some slightly broken with trickles of red liquid falling. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Tears continued down his face slowly, his room engulfed in dark purples and blues as he drifted to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman wakes up and immediately panics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, again, stems from my own intrusive thoughts - although, it is more so a take on how I feel during panic attacks.   
> Very short chapter. Sorry.   
> :/

Roman awoke quite suddenly to the sound of someone knocking at his bedroom door. Still clad in only his towel from the previous night, the dramatic side groaned and grabbed at his comforter - currently a dark grey colour. His bedding and walls always reflected his ever-changing moods and thoughts.

“Come in,” he grumbled once sufficiently wrapped in his thick blanket.

The prince wasn’t sure who he expected to enter, but it definitely wasn’t Logan.

As Logan walked closer to him, Roman couldn’t meet the logical man's eyes. He’d been so angry at dinner the night before… Though Roman understood why he didn’t think he could handle a verbal lashing after the silence he’d received from Logan previously. 

He couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to hear anything Logan had to say - it would hurt too much. Especially now… After Roman had come to terms with his feelings for them all… to have them all hate him… 

Except for Patton, perhaps, but Patton couldn’t hate anyone. Roman loved that about him. 

But Logan? He could hate Roman. He had every reason to. He could probably list all the reasons, from most to least important, and make a chart that calculated the exact ways to punish Roman for hurting the others. 

And God, Roman loved that about Logan. He loved how Logan could take any topic and make it so easily understandable, despite any complications that could arise. 

Tears burned his eyes and a sobbed racked his body suddenly. How pathetic? Logan hadn’t spoken a word, and Roman was already in tears at the very thought of the logical sides well-deserved ranting. Through his blubbering, Roman sputtered apologies and tried to hold back every desperate sob and tear behind his shaking hands. He wanted so badly to tell Logan not to hold back, to have no mercy in his words, because the creative one simply didn’t deserve any kindness from him, but he could barely speak through the waterfall that was erupting from him. 

Pathetic. 

He was pathetic.

When a hand touched Roman’s chest, he jerked in surprise, but the hand didn’t move. It wasn’t demanding, just… present. Gentle. In his surprise, his whimpers fell quieter for a moment and he was able to make out words from a face he couldn’t see through his blurry eyes. 

“Breathe, Roman, please. Slowly, okay? I’ll breathe with you. Ready?”

The hand on his chest used one finger to gently tap out a rhythm. 

One, two, three… One, two, three… 

Roman followed the rhythm, breathing in for three counts and releasing for three. With each inward pull of air, his shaking slowed. He could see more clearly the face of Virgil directly in front of him, and Logan not far behind. 

How pathetic. 

“S-Sorry-” he tried to start, fully prepared to explain that he was clearly overreacting and that they shouldn't worry about him - he didn’t deserve their care - but Virgil shook his head and Roman immediately went quiet. Virgil didn’t want to hear his excuses, it seemed, and Roman couldn’t blame him. 

Virgil and Roman continued breathing for long moments until the prince had calmed completely, gently pushing away Virgil’s hand and rubbing his eyes with his blanket that had fallen around his waist. It was then that he flushed red, realizing how exposed his torso was in the presence of the other two sides. 

“Are you alright?” Virgil asked quietly, looking uncomfortable. Roman noticed with a heavy heart that Logan seemed to be pointedly looking away. 

“Fine,” Roman answered curtly, pulling the blankets up over his shoulders and around his stomach. Again, he couldn’t blame Virgil and Logan for their disgust, but it still hurt regardless. 

How cruel God must be, to give the side of romance and fantasy the most gruesome and hideous body of the four. 

“Okay, good,” Virgil replied as he stood up slowly. “I… Um… Logan had something he wanted to say to you before…” He gestured towards Roman, mumbling, “Y’know…” And yes, of course, Roman knew. Logan had been interrupted by Roman’s over dramatic overreaction to the situation. 

Logan took a step forward, finally looking directly at Roman. A shiver went down the creative sides back as he stared, entranced by the dark eyes that looked at him with an unreadable expression. Not angry… Not happy… It was as though no emotions lingered within them at all. Only power. 

Roman couldn’t help the heat that began to pool, like lava within a dormant volcano, in his stomach. He wanted that power to dominate him - to use him like a doll, to punish him for his sins. 

But now wasn’t the time. 

“Roman, after you’ve prepared yourself for the day, the rest of us - that being, Virgil, Patton, and myself - would like to meet with you to have a much-needed discussion about recent misunderstandings.” 

Roman nodded. Of course, Logan wasn’t going to be the only one to scold him. The three of them would do it together. Roman supposed that was fair enough. 

Nodding in response as well, Logan began to take his leave. Just as he got to the door, he gestured for Virgil to follow. Roman watched in silence as Virgil hesitated, then followed suit.

And God, Roman loved him too. From his pale skin to his witty remarks, everything about Virgil had always been so enticing. 

But now wasn’t the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry Roman... Happiness will come soon (I hope).   
> Sorry this chapter is so short! I really wanted to get SOMETHING written cause I was having a bad day.  
> Please leave comments if you want me to continue. Hope you're enjoying all this angst. Gosh.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman walks down a flight of stairs.
> 
> (My apologies that this is so late, and also so short.)

Roman held his breath at the top of the stairs, staring down them with a feeling of hopelessness that he wished was foreign. He also wished that he had spent at least some time on his appearance, but he’d honestly thrown on his fluffy red robe and walked out of his room only moments after Virgil and Logan had left. 

He debated going back, trying a bit harder to look presentable - God knows his hair had to be a royal mess - but decided against it. What did it matter? Might as well look pathetic as he walked down to his judgement day. Besides, the other sides had probably heard him leave his room anyhow. 

They were probably just… waiting for him. He could imagine their gorgeous faces, all beautiful in different ways, staring at the bottom of the staircase as they waited for him. He could clearly see their eyes, piercing with anger. Or pity. Or both. 

He didn’t want either.

He finally released the breath he’d been holding when his lungs burned with a need for fresh oxygen.

“Roman, we can hear you at the top of the stairs-” Logan.

“Shush, don’t rush him!” Patton.

The Prince closed his eyes, trying to calm his shaking body. Already, he could feel the terribly tight torture of fear squeezing his throat to stop the breath he desperately needed. Moving his legs forward felt impossible. The idea of speaking was enough to rack a sob from his chest.

“Princey? Do you want one of us to come to get you?” Virgil. 

Roman almost laughed. Virgil’s threat sounded so kind, as though the anxious side meant to help him… But Roman knew it was wishful thinking - a fantasy. Virgil just wanted him to hurry up.

Time to face the music, he supposed, and finally took his first step down the stairs. How amazing it was that the moment he did so, he could feel the coldness held within the silence of the mindscape. Suddenly he was freezing, wishing he’d worn socks and wishing he could escape back to his room. 

Though, if truth be told, it would be no warmer there.

He was almost surprised as he reached the last step, unaware of how long the trip had taken him.

He didn’t dare to look at the others, not directly anyhow. His eyes met the cabinets sitting behind them and locked there as he attempted a false grin and straight back. “Good morning!” he greeted, aiming for cheerful but failing when his tired voice cracked on every syllable. 

There was no going back now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a conversation.

Breakfast - or, rather, lunch, as apparently Roman had slept through the morning without realizing - was a quiet affair. 

After his entrance, Roman had been rushed to a seat by Patton and offered a plethora of foods that the fatherly side had clearly made in preparation of whatever conversation was meant to be had. All of Roman’s favourites were present; pizza, spaghetti, garlic bread, and more… 

An attempt to appease the prince, no doubt. A way to calm him before the inevitable news was broken. 

Despite the growl in his stomach, Roman took very little of the food. Even then, he barely touched it while the others ate. How could he? He already looked a disaster, and his favourites all seemed to be heavy with calories and carbs. He sighed as he placed his fork over his plate with finality, deciding a diet was in order for the next week or so. 

Noticing Roman’s clear decision to not eat, Logan also placed his utensils down quietly before clearing his throat. “Perhaps it is best we talk now. Eating in such silence is unnatural to our usual patterns and seems to dictate a tense atmosphere that works against the end goals of everyone at this table.”

“I agree!” Patton spoke up quickly, fork clattering onto his plate in his excitement. Roman almost smiled as Patton quickly apologized for the noise and continued, “There’s a lot we all need to talk about.”

With a nod, Logan said, “Firstly, I think some apologies are in order.”

Even if three sets of eyes weren’t pointed expectantly at him, Roman would have known the line was directed at him. He knew he’d be awful to both Patton and Virgil the previous day. He knew that.

So why then, Roman wondered to himself, had he chosen to say, “Well then? I’m waiting.”

He watched in silence as Patton frowned, seemingly sad yet concerned, but the others had no such pity. Logan’s mouth set into a tight line, eyes narrowing, and but even as the logical side went to speak he was interrupted by a scoff from Virgil. 

“Seriously Roman?” the purple-clad side asked incredulously, “Did you really just say that?” 

Mocking a scoff of his own, Roman crossed his arms and leaned forward towards Virgil across the table. “Yes, Virgil, I did say that.” Roman couldn’t place a reason for his spiteful behaviour, for this false anger in his voice, but he was helpless to overcome it. “You three all owe me an apology, if I do say so myself. You’ve been keeping secrets from me, and no doubt lying too! I feel personally attacked by this-” he choked on a stutter, surely not a crack in his voice as his eyes began to burn with unshed tears, “this clear indication of what little- what little faith and trust you all have in me.”

“Roman?” Patton.

“Honestly though, I should have seen this coming! You have all always enjoyed pushing away my ideas, or calling me stupid!”

“Roman, I-” Logan.

“Don’t try to deny it! My whole existence is a joke to you three. You’ve never needed me. I thought maybe if you didn’t need me, at least you’d want me around still, y’know? But no. I should have known you’d want me gone sooner or later. You have each other.” 

“Roman, just listen for once in your-!” Virgil. 

“No!” Roman didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want their pity, their regret, or their anger. He stood abruptly, hands in fists at his sides. “I get it now. I’ll leave. You don’t have to tell me, I get it.” With a loud push of his chair, he left the table and started to make his way to the stairs.

He could hear a crying Patton start pleading for him to wait, to come back, but Roman didn’t turn back. He could hear Logan stumbling over his words as he tried to work out what to say, but he Roman didn’t turn back. Roman didn’t turn back, was determined not to, until a hand grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn. 

Virgil stood close to him, too close, eyes wide with what looked like fear. “Don’t go.” 

Unsure of what else to do, Roman only stared at Virgil. Emo nightmare or not, Roman had always been intrigued by Virgil’s gorgeous purple eyes, almost dark enough to be black but just deep enough to portray their amethyst beauty. It was so easy to get lost in them, to get stuck in them as though stuck in a piece of rock itself. The prince could feel his heart breaking all over again, knowing he couldn’t have Virgil; he couldn’t have any of them. 

“Give me one good reason not to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... A short chapter, but a chapter nevertheless. A lot of people keep requesting I continue so I thought I should get on that. I think there's only one chapter left after this.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Cry with me on Tumblr @world-class-izzy


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